


Tattoos and Lilies

by lucy_reads



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: 8th year fic, Amortentia, Dyed hair, Eventual Smut, First Fic!, Flowers, Hogwarts, M/M, Slow Burn, Smut, Sweet, amorentia, harry potter fanfic, mlm, wlw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:14:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27846662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucy_reads/pseuds/lucy_reads
Summary: Draco Malfoy is tired of keeping secrets. Well, exept one, but he can barley admit that to himself. When he walks in on his first day of his 8th year, Potter can’t stop gaping, no doubt hating him even more for being gay, and his opinion is the only one Draco seems to care about. When he volunteers to help out in potions class with the Amorentia unit and Potter just happens to be there, everything changes.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasly, Luna Lovegood/Pansy Parkinson
Kudos: 26





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work, so be patient with me! I’ve finally given into writing a Drarry fic, and I’m pretty proud so far! I hope you enjoy <3

Draco Malfoy has never been happy, at least not since he could remember. Even when he was young, his father has always had something to be angry with him about. His mother wasn’t so bad, but she’s never stand up for little 5 year old Draco, which is bad enough. Since the end of the dark war, Draco’d been trapped in Malfoy Manor with a lot of time to think. His father was banished to Azkaban for life, and his mother fled to France as soon as their trials were over. She had never become an official death eater, so her punishment would have been minimal, and when she fled the country, no one had gone after her. So, that just left Draco to deal with his own sentence along with his mother’s. Throughout the summer at home, he’d been on house arrest, and he had to finish his 8th year with nothing lower than Exceeds Expectations on all of his exams. Easier said than done. 

All the time at The Manor also left him with a lot of time to think. Mostly about Potter. Since he’d been 11 and turned down by the famous Harry Potter, he’d been obsessed. Not really in a good way, though he blames that on his father. If he hadn’t been such an arse on the Hogwarts Express that first day, things would be so much different, and his father and the Dark Lord had trained him to despise Potter. What they didn’t know is that’s not the only emotion he’s felt since even the first time he saw him, though he didn’t know it at the time. 

So. So so so. Draco’s being forced to return to Hogwarts, and he’s decided he’s over hiding everything. Really, no one, not even his mother or Pansy, know the real Draco Malfoy. So, one day in the middle of his house arrest, he dyed is hair powder blue, paints his nails black (it took an embarrassing amount of time to get it even decent) and hired a tattoo artist willing to come to The Manor. He had to choose a muggle artist so they would actually come, not just hang up the telephone as soon as he said his name, and she tattooed over the mark. It was honestly torturous, no the pain, he’d had enough of that, but the questions she kept asking about the mark. ‘Where’d you get it? Did it just move? Do you want me to reapply it? It seems to be fading.’ After the fact, though, he was quite happy with how it turned out. It wasn’t so horrible to see his mark.

So. Draco Malfoy, the pureblood son of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, was gay. Not even bi, but 100% gay. How much more disappointing can a person be?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the love on my last chapter! I wasn’t even expecting anyone to see it! I love you all <3

Harry stares, eyes wide.

“Woah,” he hears Ron whisper.

“Yeah,” replies Hermione.

Harry doesn’t know what to say. Malfoy looks… different. And gorgeous. It’s not weird to say, since he knows everyone here must be thinking. His hairs been dyed powder blue, and when Harry looks down he sees that Malfoy’s nails are painted black.

“Do you think he’s a poof?” asks Ron, and that pulls Harry out of his own head. 

“Ron!” Hermione smacks his arm, and he throws his hands up. 

“Bloody hell, Hermione.”

She turns and tosses Harry an apologetic glance, though he doesn’t know why she aimed it at him and not someone like Seamus or Dean. 

They sit through the sorting, and Harry wish he could pay attention, especially since this is his last time seeing it, but his eyes keep traveling to the back of a certain someone. 

“Harry,” says Hermione, in a tone implying this wasn’t the first time she’s tried to talk to him. Her eyebrows are furrowed, and she’s searching his face. “Malfoy is gay, you know.”

He nearly spits out his butterbeer, then sputters. “How do you know? And why should I care?”

“Pansy told me. And the second questions for you to decide,” and with that she turns back and watches as a young girl who’s name Harry’s missed gets sorted into Ravenclaw. 

Since when did Hermione and Pansy get along? And, Merlin, what does she mean ‘that’s for you to decide.’ It feels like she’s hiding something. 

• ~ • ~ • 

After the feast, Headmistress McGonagall leads them down an unfamiliar hallway, explaining that they would have one dorm mate instead of 3 and wouldn't was separate by house.

“Bloody hell,” he hears Ron whisper behind him. He’d been thinking the same thing. The houses had never gotten along very well in the past, especially Slytherin and Gryffindor, and they’d never been trapped in such close quarters for more than an hour. 

“I’m so glad to have all of you back,” says Headmistress McGonagall as Harry tunes back in, “and I’m so sorry to any of those who were lost in the war.” There’s a heavy silence, then she huffs and raises her chin. “There’s no changing your dorm mates unless completely necessary, and I expect only the best behavior from all of you, no matter who you’re with,” she says, tossing a look Harry’s way. Weird.

Finally, she steps to the side, revealing a paper with the different pairings, and everyone pushes forward excitedly. Harry hears Padma and Pravati squeal, sees Hermione sulk, and Ron sighs. When he’s finally up, it feels like someone punched him in the stomach. Next to his name is Draco L. Malfoy.

Shit.


	3. Chapter 3

Draco couldn’t keep his eyes off of Potter during the feast. Last year, he’d been busy with everything, and over the summer Potter had certainly changed, at least from what Draco could see. His hair was longer, as messy as ever and curling around his ears. Draco wanted to run his hands through it. He wasn’t so lanky, and he filled out his robes nicely. His skin was warm and his eyes bright, and it took everything in Draco to not stare. 

Before he knew it, Headmistress McGonalgall was leading the 8th years to their dorms, an unfamiliar wing of the castle, and Draco hung towards the back. She went over the rules and such, and when it came time to look at the roommates, Draco’s stomach was in knots. The only person here who doesn’t hate him is Pansy, but everyone in the rooms with the same gender. So, he’d run the risk of being murdered in his sleep. Great. 

When he’s only a few meters from the names, he sees Potter staring, and he plants himself next to him, glancing over. 

“What’s wrong, Potter? Didn’t get the Weasel? How sad for you.” He says when he sees how wide his eyes are. He looks like he’s about to spontaneously combust. 

“Have a look,” is all he says. 

“Well shit.” 

Of course. The universe has got to be fucking kidding him. Of course he has to dorm with his arch-nemesis-turned-mega-crush. Not only that, but McGonalall had made it very clear she would not let us change where we dorm. 

Before Draco can say anything else, McGonagall is talking again. “Because you are all 8th years, your curfew is 11 PM, but you best not show up here drunk or have any alcohol at school. Understand?”

Everyone nods, then someone pipes up from the crowd. “Do you mean our curfew is 11 every night? And we can leave the castle?”

“Yes, Macmillan. Now, go off to your dorms. I’m glad to have you all back,” she says, flashing them a rare grin. 

So, Draco thinks, I have to dorm with Harry sodding Potter. 

• ~ • ~ • 

Draco’s waiting in their shared dorm, bouncing his knee. He’s been thinking of some ground rules, figuring Potter would split up from his friend soon, at least to change or grab his wallet or something. 

Draco spends his time waiting by unpacking his stuff, claiming the bed by the window, and finally deciding to have a shower. When he’s finished, he walks out of the bathroom in just his tow, hung low on his hips, intending to grab some pajamas, and he stops short. Potter’s in the middle of stripping. Draco’s cheeks heat, and he hopes it’s explainable by the shower. When Potter spots Draco, he buttons his jeans back up and stares, brilliant eyes trailing down. 

To recover himself, he says, “Merlin, Potter. Could you make it any more obvious.” He wants to kick himself, though the startled look on Potter’s face almost makes it worth it.

“I was- I just- You’re in a towel.” 

Draco can’t help but laugh. “Oh, really? I didn’t notice.” Then, Draco moves to the wardrobe, grabs some cotton pajama bottoms and boxers, and moves back to the bathroom. “Don’t worry, darling, I’ll wait until you’re dressed.” He closes the door, then leans against it, taking a deep breath. Shit. Shit shit shit. Okay. Draco has to make himself calm the fuck down. It’s not a big deal. 

He’s known that he’s gay since he was 13, though he’d always hidden it, but it was only this summer that he was able to admit to himself that he was in love with Harry Potter. It wasn’t a simple crush or small infatuation or anything so simple. He was in love. It happened about the time that he figured out he was gay, but he’d always denied it by throwing insult after insult, and now it was just muscle memory. It was better than trying to be nice and getting shut down. 

So, he dresses himself, takes a few deep breaths, and calls out. “Are you dressed?” 

“Er-“ a rustle of fabric- “yeah.” 

Draco leaves the bathroom, then plants himself on his bed. “So,” he starts, “we should establish some rules.”

Potter just nods, so Draco continues. 

“I shower in the mornings, so you’ll have to at night.” Potter just nods, and Draco’s eyes catch on his soft hair. “No girls or anything in the dorm, whether I’m here or not. Don’t make a mess and expect me to clean it. No, scratch that, no mess at all. It needs to be clean in here.” Potter rolls his eyes, and Draco narrows his. Draco touches on a few more important things, and when he’s finally done, Harry says:

“Is that all?” 

“And no sleeping with the window open.” 

“Jesus, fine,” says Potter.

“Who’s Jesus?” 

Another roll of his brilliant green eyes. Honestly, Draco doesn’t think he’s ever noticed how green they actually were. He’d also never been this close to Harry for this long before. His skin is a warm brown color, his hair inky black, and he pulls it off beautifully. 

“Whatever,” Draco finally says. “I’m going to bed.”


End file.
